


one single thread of gold tied me to you

by fireflyslove



Series: time, wondrous time [1]
Category: Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Diana (Wonder Woman), F/M, Handwavery, Modern Era, Steve is alive somehow, WW84 compliant, crab rangoons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28332183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyslove/pseuds/fireflyslove
Summary: Steve shows up, and Diana's ready to take whatever she can get for however long she has himOr, I write WW84 fix it fic because dammit Diana deserves to be happy.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor
Series: time, wondrous time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078247
Comments: 10
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wonder Woman and WW84 are the only DC movies I've seen, so this is in no way compliant with Justice League or DOJ or... Aquaman? The setting is vaguely 2020 New York, sans pandemic. 
> 
> Smut'll be next chapter!
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's Invisible String

It’s when she’s flying that she feels closest to him. 

Eyes closed, arms stretched out, letting her momentum carry her through the clouds. 

She had nowhere to be, no lives that desperately needed saving, she could just  _ be _ for a few minutes. Diana imagined the sound of a biplane engine, imagined Steve flying next to her, his laughter barely audible over the roar of the propellers. 

When she opened her eyes, he wasn’t there of course, but the bright feeling in her chest carried her home. She was living in New York these days, a little apartment that cost more than she cared to think about, but the view was more than worth it. The window opened onto a little balcony that was probably supposed to be purely decorative, but it made for a nice landing platform. 

Diana closed the window behind her, and shucked her armor onto the bedroom floor, her vambraces clinking together as they hit the soft carpet. The apartment, along with the view, was full of the most Modern Conveniences, most of which she barely used, but it was pleasant to be able to ask the wall to heat up her shower for her. The bathroom was steamy before she even entered it. She quickly ran a brush through her hair, wincing at the tangles flying in the wind had put in it. 

She asked the wall to turn the shower off, not wanting to waste the water. It was going to take longer to untangle this than she had thought. Sighing, she reached into the vanity drawer and pulled out a pot of hair mask. Usually Diana’s hair seemed to magically detangle itself, but sometimes the wind outdid even the work of the gods. She should really braid it before she went flying, but the sensation of it against her shoulders was worth the work it took to brush it out. 

Diana grimaced as she worked her fingers through the knots, seemingly hundreds of the tiny things. In the open vanity drawer, metal glinted dully, a pair of scissors. She picked them up, then considered herself in the still-steamy mirror. She’d had short hair before, someone during the 20s had convinced her that a bob was a good idea. And being functionally immortal, it would grow back…

“Wall, please make me a hair appointment as soon as possible,” she said. 

The wall gave an affirmative chirp, then a few moments later, “You have an appointment with Gregor in two hours. I will send the location to your phone.”

“Thank you, Wall.”

“My pleasure, Diana.”

She bundled her hair into a bun and took a quick shower. Emerging smelling of orchids and “mint”, she smoothed lotion onto her skin, and wrapped a towel around herself. Her armor was still lying all over the floor, and it probably needed cleaning. 

Diana dressed, then set about cleaning her armor before setting it on its stand in the corner of her bedroom. She still had some time before her appointment, so she pulled out a book on Etruscan temples, a book she had read at least a dozen times before, and thumbed through it idly. 

The wall kindly reminded her when she needed to leave, and she thanked it, pulled on her vambraces and a pair of boots and went on her way. It was a short walk to the salon, and a lovely spring day to boot. 

When she sat in the chair, had the cape around her neck, and Gregor got his hands in her hair, he was tsking. 

“Diana, darling, what  _ have _ you been doing?”

“I was in a wind tunnel,” she said, not an untruth. 

“And just last month we spent all that time on those highlights. All right, what do you want to do?” 

She picked her hair up, and gestured to a point just below her collarbones.

“That much?” he said. “That’s a big change.”

Diana shrugged, “I’m feeling adventurous.”

“Excellent,” Gregor said.

Half an hour later, Diana emerged from the salon feeling ten pounds lighter.

-

She picked up Chinese on her way home, popping a crab rangoon into her mouth as she smiled at the doorman.

“You’re looking fresh today,” he said.

“Felt like a new wind was blowing today, Cyrus,” she said. 

“It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” Diana said, and nodded again at him when he held the door open for her. 

The elevator trip to her floor was a short one, this building had a turbo elevator, something else she appreciated about her apartment. When she got to her floor, she was buried in her phone, a habit she disliked in others and herself, but one she couldn’t seem to break herself of. She nearly ran into the person standing just outside the elevator doors. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said.

“It’s all right,” the man said, and he turned, catching the phone and rangoon she had almost dropped. “Can you tell me… Diana?”

She froze at the sound of his voice, her eyes flicked up, into bright blue ones, the color she only saw in her dreams. “Steve,” she gasped. 

A second later, she dropped into defense mode. 

“Who are you?” she said, voice full of steel.

“Diana, it’s me,” he said. 

“Whoever you are, this is indescribably cruel,” she said, snatching her phone and rangoon back from him. 

“Diana, I swear,” he said, stepping into the small distance she had put between them. He reached into her space, hand brushing against her waist, and into the pocket sewn into the inside of her coat, pulling a small length of the lasso out and wrapping it around his wrist. “I’m Steve Trevor.”

Diana glanced around, then grabbed his wrist with the hand still holding her phone and pulled him into her apartment, the door unlocking automatically. She put her food on the counter, and shoved the rangoon into her mouth. 

“How did you come here?” she asked. 

“After… after 1984,” he said, “I went back to the Other Place. And then… I showed up here. Well not here here, but here in New York. Naked, on a train platform, if you can believe it. I was almost arrested but this homeless man gave me some pants…”

He was rambling, and Diana realized the lasso was still around his wrist. She gently unwrapped it, and his stream of consciousness halted abruptly. 

“Sit, Steve,” she said, gesturing to her couch. It was practically in the kitchen, given the small size of the apartment. 

He sat on it, rather stiffly. She took a moment to take in his… outfit. A cheetah print ( _ he couldn’t have known) _ shirt unbuttoned down to a rather scandalous level for a man born in the 19th century, pants that were too short for him, and a pair of Birkenstocks. 

“Did you mug the poor gentlemen for his clothes?” Diana said.

“No,” Steve said, “but he did make me do a turn for him. Is it as ridiculous as I think it looks?”

Diana bit her knuckle to keep from cackling at the inanity of the question, but nodded. 

“That explains the strange looks,” Steve sighed. “So I got dressed, and came out of the… subway?” Diana nodded again, “Out of the subway station, onto the street. I decided, ‘well, Stevey boy, it’s time to look for a phone book’. You can guess how that went.”

Diana was unpacking the food, and dispensing it onto a plate. She grabbed a fork and a pair of chopsticks, kicked off her boots, and dropped cross-legged onto the couch next to Steve. He took the proffered fork, and continued his story.

“Eventually I ended up in the library, and a very nice and helpful person helped me use… Google… to look you up,” he said. 

“How did you get past Cyrus?” Diana asked. 

“Waited until he went to help an old woman with her groceries,” Steve said. 

“Resourceful.”

“Spy,” Steve shrugged. 

They sat in companionable silence, eating the food. 

“So you believe I’m real?” he finally asked. 

“I have no reason not to,” she said around a mouthful of chop suey. “If you’re a figment of my imagination, it would not be the first time. If you are not Steve Trevor, but someone pretending to be him, I am more than capable of defending myself. And if, by some miracle, you are the real Steve, well, then I would not like to waste time interrogating you.”

“That’s very… practical,” he said. 

“I’m living life on the edge,” she said.

“What?” 

“It’s something the young people say… I think,” Diana said. She absentmindedly shoved the hair behind her ear.

“Your hair is short,” he observed.

“I just got it cut today,” she said, running her fingers through it. 

“It looks good on you,” he said. “Well, everything looks good on you, but especially that.”

“Thank you,” she said, a warm flush suffusing through her body. She was complimented on her appearance often, but very rarely did she know someone actually meant it with no ulterior motive. 

“Diana,” he said. “I… I just showed up, and barged into your life, I didn’t even ask if you wanted me here.”

“Steve,” she said, putting a hand on his knee, “I will take you any time, for as long as I have you and you want me.”

He let out a breath, and it sounded like a thousand pounds of tension with it. “Do you… have anyone… special?”

Diana smiled wanly, “Not recently. A few years ago there was a woman, but she… well, she couldn’t handle all of me, so we broke it off.”

“All of you?” 

“After I showed her the armor and the lasso, she nearly ran out of here,” 

“Diana, I’m so sorry,” he said. 

Diana waved his platitude away. “She was not the first. To be honest, you are the only one who has not been scared off by Wonder Woman.”

“Wonder Woman?”

A moue of distaste, “That’s what the press has decided to call me. It is very difficult to keep an identity secret in the age of cameras everywhere.”

“Well, I think the name suits you,” he said, his face overly serious. “You’re pretty wonderful.”

She broke into giggles at the statement, and his thin facade dropped, he joined her. She set the plate on the counter, and then climbed into his lap. 

“I don’t know how much time we have,” she said. “So I intend to make the best of it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve said, and then her lips were on his, and he felt like he was being devoured.

Diana kissed like she fought, with all of considerable strength. He had died twice, and gone to Heaven (probably) twice, but this was still better. 

He skimmed his hands up her waist, under her thin blouse. She wasn’t wearing her armor, and her skin was silky soft. 

“Bed, now,” she said, wrapping her thighs firmly around his waist. 

He stood, with considerable difficulty considering the Amazon limpet he had stuck to his face, and proceeded to the bedroom. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as smutty as I expected, but *shrug*.
> 
> The title's not just a metaphor!

Steve backed into her bed until his knees hit the edge, and then landed with a soft thud, Diana’s knees on either side of his hips. 

“Wall,” she said, and a circle just to the left of the bathroom door glowed blue. “Please turn on do not disturb, highest settings.”

“Very well, Diana,” the wall said.

“Thank you, Wall.”

The blue light went out, and the wall said nothing else.

“What the hell was that?” Steve asked. 

“Is that really what you want to talk about?” Diana replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Not in the least,” Steve said, and he reached up to bury his fingers in Diana’s hair. 

She performed some acrobatics, the specifics of which he missed, distracted as he was by the sheer force of kissing her, and he found himself with his head on a pillow. She grabbed one of his wrists and looped something around it. The familiar glowing warmth of the lasso poured into his skin, and he looked up to find himself tied to the headboard by one hand.

“Is this all right?” she asked.

He nodded enthusiastically. “You have  _ no _ idea how long I’ve had fantasies about this.”

“Probably about as long as I have,” Diana said, and she looped the free end of the lasso around her own wrist. “There, now I’ve tied myself to you, so you can’t go anywhere.”

“Diana please sit on my face,” Steve said, the lasso forcing every thought out of his mouth, no filter.

She smiled, a wide bright thing, and tilted her head, considering. “If that’s really what you want.”

“God yes,” he said. 

“Well, I think I can oblige you then,” she said. 

Somehow her clothes had disappeared, and most of his had as well. She was sitting on his bare chest, he could feel her wetness against his skin, and he licked his lips in anticipation. Diana took that as the invitation it was meant to be, and scooted up until her knees were on either side of his head, feet tucked under his shoulders. Steve wrapped his free hand around one of her thighs, feeling the strength coiled in her muscles, and not even a little bit afraid.

Diana tunneled her fingers through his hair, and he set to work. Her head dropped back and eyes closed. 

She had had a few lovers since 1984, when he had told her to love again, but none of them even came close to Steve. Book knowledge had done a lot for her before she left Themyscira, but practical knowledge…

His tongue traced letters across her, odes to long lost gods, every thought he had never told her, a description of Paradise. (Though, having been to Heaven, he’d rather be here). Sooner than he expected, her thighs began to quiver, the hand in his hair tightened, and she made his favorite noise, a low desperate thing. He moved his hand from her thigh to press two fingers into her, and then she was going over, his name on a high breathy wail. 

“ _ Steve!” _

“Fucking hell,” he said, as Diana moved backwards. 

He expected her to land somewhere off to the side, but she shocked him, shimmying down his torso until she was at his hips. She looked him in the eye, smiled, and reached a hand behind her. She rose up, then dropped down, sheathing him in one swoop. It felt like a gut punch, in the best possible way, 

Diana took a moment to adjust to the fullness, feeling him filling her to what felt like the very brim.

“I love you,” she murmured, the sentiment coaxed out by the bright truth of the lasso.

“More than anything,” he replied fervently.

She began to move, riding him slowly at first, then picking up speed. He steadied her with a hand on her hip, not that she needed it. She pressed a hand to the center of his chest, closing a circle. His eyes began to glaze over even as he fought to keep them open, pupils blowing wide until there was just the tiniest hint of aquamarine at the edges. 

He was beautiful, and Diana told him so. He didn’t even attempt to argue, as bright sparks spread up his spine. The hand on her hip tightened into a grip that would leave bruises on anyone else, and his eyes fluttered shut. 

She loved watching this, and tucked the image away like the precious thing it was. As he came back down, he opened his eyes to find her staring into them, a soft smile on her face. 

“Hello,” she said. 

“Hi,” he replied breathlessly. 

She gently moved off him, making him wince in overstimulation, and unwound the lasso from their hands, spooling it up and placing it on the nightstand. He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. Diana reached down the bed for the blanket, and pulled it up over them, curling up next to Steve and putting her head on his chest. 

She yawned hugely, suddenly drained.

“Sleep,” he said.

“Will you still be here when I wake?”

“I will do my very best,” he said. 

“Love you,” she murmured, and dropped off into a light doze. 

He brushed his fingers through her hair, then looked over at the wall where the blue circle had been. 

“Excuse me, Wall?” he asked.

“Yes?” the voice was soft. 

“What are you?”

“I am an artificial intelligence, and Ms. Prince’s assistant,” it said.

“Can you answer some questions?”

“Of course.”

“What is a crab rangoon?”

-

Diana woke to find Steve having a lively conversation with the wall. It appeared to be… describing the intricacies of the Soyuz rocket and the ISS. She shifted her head to look up at him, and his face was bright with delight. 

“I love the future,” he said, noticing her awake. “I gotta get a drone.”

She laughed at the boyish enthusiasm in his voice. “We will get you a drone,” she said. “But first, I want to show you something.”

“Anything,” he said. “Thank you, Wall.”

“It was my pleasure, Steve,” the wall said. 

“Wall seems to like me,” he said. 

She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face, and regarded him. “You don’t have anything else to wear,” she said. “And I am not taking you out in… that.”

“Where am I going to get clothes?” he said. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“This is New York,” she said. “Stay here, I’ll be back in an hour. Take a shower if you want.”

She kissed him firmly, and rose, quickly dressing. Hopping into her shoes, she kissed him once more, told him she loved him, and hurried out of the apartment. 

Finding clothes was easy, though Diana knew it probably looked like she was a little bit cracked. 

“This is a lot of clothes, ma’am,” the cashier noted blandly. 

“My boyfriend just showed up with only the clothes on his back,” Diana said. “And he has an abysmal fashion sense.”

The clerk picked up a suit coat and a turtleneck, “These scream evil sea captain,” she said. 

Diana laughed, “They do, don’t they?”

The cashier bagged her purchases, fitting them into only three bags. Diana thanked her, and hurried back to her building. 

“Late night shopping?” Cyrus remarked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Diana said. 

She bustled back into the apartment to find Steve in the kitchen wearing her floral robe and an apron, the robe barely covering his butt. He was making something with eggs, and it smelled delicious. 

“I went a little overboard,” she said, setting the bags on the couch. 

“I’m planning on staying a while,” Steve said. “And I don’t think I can go out in this, so I’m going to need it.”

“I’m going to have to make room in the closet for you,” she mused. “Would you like some pants?”

“Yes, yes I would,” Steve said. 

“Actually, what kind of underwear do you want?” she asked, proffering three packages.

“There’s different kinds?” he said. “Uh, why don’t you just give me one, and I’ll try them all.”

She handed him a pair of boxer-briefs and a pair of grey chinos. He hopped on one foot, pulling them on, spatula between his teeth. It was adorable.

The eggs were as delicious as they smelled, better than she could make herself by far.

“Now, what did you want to show me?” he asked, sitting next to her on the couch, fingers playing idly with her hair. 

“Put on a shirt,” she said. “And then come to the balcony window.”

She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail and opened the window, stepping out onto the balcony. The night air up here was crisp, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the wind fill her senses. Steve’s hand on her shoulder alerted her to his presence, and she turned around.

“After 1984, I took your advice,” she said. “About flying.” She stepped up onto the balcony’s wall, and then off. 

He gasped, and jumped to catch her, but she was already bouncing back up from the short fall. 

“You can  _ fly _ ,” he said.

She nodded, grin almost feral. “Do you trust me?”

“Inherently,” he replied. 

“Good,” she said, and scooped him up, one hand under his shoulders, and the other his knees. 

He gripped her shoulder tightly for just a moment as she shot up toward the clouds, then loosened to a more comfortable grip a few seconds later. 

The night city spread below them, the lights sprawling as far as the eye could see. She shot west, over the island. 

He laughed, a wild thing, and she could feel the wonder pouring from every cell in his body. 

“I always feel closest to you up here,” she said, voice low in his ear.

“I could stay up here forever,” he said. 

She said nothing, only turning, looping and performing aerobatics just to make him laugh. 

Eventually, they returned to her balcony, and she landed, setting Steve down.

“We have to do that again,” he said. “As soon as possible.”

“Any time you want,” she said. “For as long and as far as I can have you.”

It was his turn to yawn hugely, and they climbed back in through the window. 

“You need sleep,” she said.

“I do,” he agreed. “But… I’m … I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That I might not wake up in your bed, but back There.”

“If they take you back, at least we had today,” Diana said. “And if they don’t, then we have tomorrow.”

Always pragmatic, even when she was playing dangerous games with her heart.

“I hope we have tomorrow,” Steve said, pulling her into a hug and burying his face in her hair. It smelled of wind and air, and he pulled the elastic out to let it loose.

She had gotten him pajamas as well, and soon they were in her bed, stuck together so tightly that nothing short of Death itself would be able to pull them apart. He slept first, and she spent a long time gazing at his slumbering face before dropping off herself.

-

He was still there in the light of morning.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I can be found tied to the internet by a lasso of truth @fireflyslove


End file.
